Mary Julia Young She Applied to the Royal Literary Fund for Help Until She Could Complete Her Next Work
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Mary Julia Young she applied to the Royal Literary Fund for help until she could complete her next work. MAJOR WORKS : The Family Party; A Comic Piece, in Two Acts (London, 1789) ; Adelaide and Antonine; or, the Emigrants: A Tale (London, 1793); Genius and Fancy; or, Dramatic Sketches: With Other Poems on Various Subjects (London, 1795); Poems (London, 1798), reprinted in The Metrical Museum. Part I. Containing, Agnes; or, the Wanderer, a Story Founded on the French Revolution. The Flood, an Irish Tale. Adelaide and Antonine; or, The Emigrants. With Other Original Poems (London, [1801]); The East Indian, or Clijford Priory, 4 vols. (London, 1799; reprint, Dublin, 1800); Moss Clijf Abbey; or, The Sepulchral Har monist, a Mysterious Tale, 4 vols. (London, 1803); Right and Wrong; or, The Kinsmen of Naples, A Romantic Story, 4 vols. (London, 1803); Donalda; or, The Witches ef Glenshiel, 2 vols. (London, 1805); Memoirs ef Mrs. Crouch; Including a Retrospect ef the Stage during the Years she Performed, 2 vols. (London, 1806); Rose Mount Castle, or False Reports, 3 vols. (London, bef. l8ro); A Summer at Brighton, or The Resort of Fashion, 3 vols. (London, bef. 18ro); A Summer at Weymouth, or the Star ef Fashion, 3 vols. (London, bef. 18ro); The Heir ef Drumcondra; or, Family Pride, 3 vols. (London, 1810). TRANSLATIONS : The Mother and Daughter, a Pathetic Tale, from the French of Berthier; 3 vols. (London, 1804); Francois Maria Arouet de Voltaire, Voltariana, 4 vols. (London, 1805); Lindorf and Caroline, from the German of Prof. Cramer, 3 vols. (n.p., n.d.) . TEXTS USED : Texts of "An Ode to Fancy," "Sonnet to Dreams," and "To Miss -- on Her Spending Too Much Time at Her Looking Glass" from Genius and Fancy; or, Dramatic Sketches: with Other Poems on Various Subjects (1795). Text of "To a Friend, on His Desiring Me to Publish" from Poems. Mary Julia Young An Ode to Fancy Tell me, blyth Fancy, shall I chuse A tragic subject for my muse? Her flowing tresses shall the willow bind, While fading roses at her feet expire, Shall she to love-lorn sonnets be confin'd, Or tune to elegiac strains her lyre? Then, as sweetly responsive sad Philomel sings, Thrilling cadences float on calm night's dewy wings, While the stars to her sorrow-dim'd eyes faint appear, IO And the pallid moon trembling, is drown'd in a tear. Or in melancholy's cell, Shall I make the songstress dwell, To weave a tragic scene of woe, Such as Horror's children know? There, Jealousy with raging soul, Mixes poison in the bowl, Swift to the mad'ning brain it flies, The victim raves, burns, freezes, dies. There, pierc'd by anguish hopeless love expires, 20 There wild ambition fans destructive fires: She sees the steelly dagger gleam, She hears the murd'rers' hollow tread! Hears the birds of omen scream, Wheeling o'er his guilty head! While, wrapt in terror's shadowy veil, Gliding spectres grace the tale, Or, when tremendous thunders roll, Light'nings flash, and tempests howl, Shall she climb the pendant rock, 30 Its rude base trembling at the shock, 7 Philomel] According to Greek legend, Philomela was raped by her brother-in-law, who then cut out her tongue so that she could not reveal the identity of her assailant. Philomela wove her story into a peplos, which she sent to her sister. In the Latin version of the legend the gods changed Philomela into a nightingale. Mary Julia Young And from the cloud-capt summit view The scatter'd fleet, the death-devoted crew! Some on foaming billows rise, And whirl amidst inclement skies, Then, rushing down the wat'ry steep, Beneath the stormy ocean sleep! Others, with rudder broke, and shatter'd mast, Emerging from the deep, Reel before the northern blast; While she sails, in shivers torn, 40 Useless o'er the surges sweep: On the tempest's rapid wing, Swift to the fatal rock the wrecks are borne, The rock! where never smil'd the verdant spring! On its flinty side they dash, Bulging with a fearful crash! Happier those the sea entomb'd, Than these to lingering misery doom'd! Whom famine seizes for his prey, And slowly drags the struggling life away. 50 Or shall she toil o'er barren lands, Deserts drear, and burning sands? Where the Volcano's flaming head, Fills the awe-struck soul with dread! When it vomits liquid fire, Spreading conflagration dire, Who can tread the scorching ground? The air blows scalding steam around. Turn,--and on the ocean gaze, The flames reflected in its bosom blaze, 60 While o'er the earth, the air, the main, Fire, usurping seems to reign. Or shall she bend her lonely way, Thro' woods impervious to the beams of day, Where wolves howl, and lions roar, Thirsting after human gore, 40 shivers] Fragments, chips. Mary Julia Young Where the fierce banditti hide, Cavern'd in the mountain's side, Disgrace and terror of mankind, 70 With human form, and savage mind! Who, ere their bleeding victim dies, Rapacious share their lawless prize. Or shall she mount Bellona's car, And drive amidst the din of war, Fearless of the whizzing ball, Tho' dying heros round her fall. And, when the approach of sable night Stops the still-uncertain sight, By the pale moon's languid ray, 80 O'er the field of horror stray. And wading through the ensanguin' d plain, View the pride of manhood slain? Exposed, neglected, the brave warrior lies, Life's purple current stains his livid breast: With pious hand, say, shall she close his eyes, And wrap him decent in his martial vest? Shall she from the sacred ground, Chace the vultures hov'ring round, Then, on each corse, grief's pearly sorrows shed, 90 And sing a requiem o'er the silent dead! Or to the cold, dark, charnel house repair, And breathe its clammy, its infectious air? While she opes the grating door, Death's last mansion to explore, The rushing wind terrific groans, And aweful shakes the mould'ring bones. Shall she dauntless there remain, While a deep chilling silence reigns around, And chaunting forth a solemn strain, IOO From the dank walls hear Echo's dreary sound? 67 banditti] Italian for bandits. 73 Bellona's] Roman goddess of war; either the sister or the wife of Mars. 91 charnel house] Vault for the bones of the dead. Mary Julia Young No Fancy, no, she loves to sport, In gay Thalia's comic court, There her airy numbers sings, While she lightly sweeps the strings. Jocund, easy, unconfin'd, Leaving haggard Care behind. To a loftier muse belong, The graces of the tragic song. Mine from the cradle to the tomb, Strives to dissipate the gloom: IIO Tho' nor skilful, nor sublime, She can smooth the brow of Time, Charm his sombrous frowns away, And with the tedious minutes play. Then tell me Fancy, can I chuse, A tragic theme for such a muse? (1795) Sonnet to Dreams Hail gentle spirits! who with magic wing, Chace the dark clouds of sullen night away, And from her murky cave my freed soul bring, To revel in the radiant beams of day. What are you, say? or earthly or divine, Who thus can chear the pause of dull repose; With chymic art the dross of sleep refine, And beauteous scenes to curtain'd eyes disclose? What are you! who subduing time and space, To bless these moments can a friend restore? IO 102 Thalia's comic court) Thalia is the Muse of idyllic poetry and comedy. One of the three graces, she i~ the patroness of festive gatherings. n3 sombrous] Somber, gloomy, dark. 7 chymic] Alchemic. Young refers to the process of changing base metals into gold. Mary Julia Young I hear that voice - behold that form - that face, And grateful own your pow'r can give no more! Hail gentle spirits! to whose guardian care, I owe such bliss-yet, know not what you are! (1795) To Miss on Her Spending Too Much Time at Her Looking Glass While at the mirror, lovely maid You trifle time away, Reflect how soon your bloom will fade, How soon your charms decay. By nature form'd to please the eye, All studied airs disdain, From art, from affectation fly, And fashions light and vain. Turn from the glass and view your mind, IO On that bestow your care, Improve, correct it, till you find No imperfections there. Make it the seat of every grace, Of charms that will encrease; And give bright lustre to the face, When youth and beauty cease. Charms, that will gain a worthy heart, And lasting love inspire, That will thro' life true bliss impart, 20 Nor yet, with life expire. (1795) Mary Julia Young To a Friend, on His Desiring Me to Publish With artless Muse, and humble name, Shall I solicit public fame? Shall I, who sing the pensive strain, To soothe a mind oppressed with pain, Or in the maze of fancy stray, To pass a cheerless hour away, Boldly to meet Apollo rise, And flutter in his native skies? Presumptuous, giddy, proud, elate, Forgetting Icarus' sad fate, IO High on my treacherous plumage soar, And fall, like him, to rise no more? Or, to assume a strain more common, Shall I, an unknown, untaught woman, Expose myself to dread Reviews, - To paragraphs in daily news? To gall-dipp'd pens, that write one down. To Envy's hiss, and Critic's frown? To printers, editors, and devils, With a thousand other evils, 20 That change the high-rais'd expectation To disappointment and vexation, And chase, abash' d, from public fame, The artless Muse, the humble name? (1798) 10 Forgetting Icarus' sad fate] In the Greek legend, Icarus, the son of Daedalus, constructed wings to allow him to fly.